


your finest inspiration

by carissima



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Canon Compliant, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-30
Updated: 2014-03-30
Packaged: 2018-01-17 14:00:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,997
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1390357
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/carissima/pseuds/carissima
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>His legs ache a little and he's shattered so he keeps the radio down low as he cruises through the streets until he hits the motorway. It's another two hours to London and he's got a lot of cursing at Zayn to do so he slouches down in his seat and thinks about how dumb Zayn's stupid face is.</p>
            </blockquote>





	your finest inspiration

**Author's Note:**

  * For [](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts).



> For [zayntomlinsobs](http://zayntomlinsobs.tumblr.com) because she deserves more Zouis and hopefully this will help until something better comes along!

Louis' leg won't stop bouncing, no matter how hard he presses down on it with the heel of his hand. He's nervous and excited and terrified, which is all to be expected he supposes when you're about to step out in front of thousands of fans and play in a game of professional football for your home team and pretty much the best you can do is try not to embarrass yourself because you're a popstar, not a footballer. And even if the majority of the fans out in the stands are screaming girls, rather than abusive-throwing grown men who've probably had too much to drink, the media is camped out to capture every single second of his experience, good or bad.

And what's worse, he thinks grumpily as he throws his phone down in disgust, is that not one of the lads has turned up to cheer him on. He's fully aware that it's unfair to blame Niall with his leg operation, he can barely walk let alone fight through hoards of screaming girls and climb the stairs to the players box. He knows its irrational to begrudge Harry his time in LA away from the media who've driven him mad over the past year. And if Liam's on a well-deserved vacation with his family after the year he's had, then Louis' trying not to be bitter about it. He's not trying very hard, but he is trying.

Zayn, however, is another matter. Louis scowls down at his phone as he silently curses Zayn for the millionth time. He's practically down the road, visiting his parents and Louis hasn't even had a good luck text.

Which, well, that's not unusual, Louis concedes but still. He's fulfilling a fucking childhood dream here and none of his mates have bothered to turn up. And if he wants to be a moody bastard about it and make them all suffer for their terrible, horrible friendship, then that's his choice.

It's not like being annoyed at Zayn isn't a regular thing in Louis' life. He gets annoyed when Zayn won't come clubbing with him on tour. He gets annoyed when Zayn disappears for a cigarette break and doesn't invite him along. He gets annoyed when he's in a bad mood and Zayn tickles him until he's laughing and breathless. He gets really annoyed when Zayn fucks off on his own for a few hours when he's overwhelmed because he _still_ won't just let Louis make it all better without vanishing on his own.

But being disappointed in Zayn? It's a whole new feeling for him and he fucking _hates_ it. He doesn't _want_ to feel disappointed. It fucking sucks to feel disappointed, especially when he knows Zayn probably has a good reason. But when the manager calls him up and he gets to his feet, his legs feeling a bit wobbly and his stomach churning until he starts to panic that he's going to throw up, he takes a long, shuddering deep breath and shuts out everything, the cheers, the fans faces, the worried look on the assistant manager's face (wanker), the grins on the opposing teams faces (wankers) and squares his shoulders to jog onto the pitch and put on the performance of his fucking life.

At the end of the game, he trudges off the pitch, trying to bank down his exhilaration. He can now officially call himself a professional footballer. Not that he would, of course, except to annoy Liam or Niall maybe, but god he just feels like he can walk on fucking air and it's one of the best fucking days of his entire life. He accepts the congratulations of his teammates as they head for the dressing room, offering his own and a handshake or pat on the back to everyone he sees, his smile far too wide and far too fucking genuine but he can't help it. He listens carefully to the manager's post-game analysis and talk, smiling annoyingly sincerely the entire time before he can jump in the shower. By the time he gets out and quickly dresses, saying his goodbyes and thank yous to the team and the manager and slips out to find his car, it's pretty late and he's starting to come down from his high. His legs ache a little and he's shattered so he keeps the radio down low as he cruises through the streets until he hits the motorway. It's another two hours to London and he's got a lot of cursing at Zayn to do so he slouches down in his seat and thinks about how dumb Zayn's stupid face is.

*

When he gets home, he's got various texts from everyone from his mum to the assistant soundcheck guy who's name he vaguely remembers but he's shit with names and he's not programmed into his phone anyway. Liam's text is apologetic yet somehow excited, Niall's is enthusiastically hyper and Harry's is just a weird picture of a crowded LA street that Louis' sure makes perfect sense to Harry, at least. But nothing from Zayn.

More annoyed than ever, Louis checks twitter just in case he's missed a message from Zayn but scrolling through Zayn's timeline reveals absolutely nothing, just a few responses to people Louis doesn't know and a random as hell tweet to Pharrell, thanking him for something, something that makes Louis' mouth tighten as he types a quick, angry text.

**Don't suppose you know anyone who made their professional football debut today do you?? Thanks for the support. Mate.**

He knows he's being an arse but he sends it anyway before he changes for bed, turning his phone off deliberately and staring up at the ceiling for far too long before he finally drops off to sleep.

*

The most annoying thing about Zayn, Louis thinks, is that he refuses to play Louis' games if he's the target. They're back on tour, finally, and Louis has been ignoring Zayn for a whole month now. All the way through rehearsals and filming the new video, Louis hasn't said one word to Zayn or even smiled in his direction.

Zayn, the fucking wanker, hasn't even blinked at it. He's simply chatted to one of the other boys or the crew, which just winds Louis up even more. He's always been like that though, Louis huffs as he glares at Zayn during his solo in Something Great on stage, completely ignoring Louis.

Liam, Louis thinks angrily as he sings into the microphone by rote, would have spent hours bugging Louis to tell him what was wrong and promising to make amends. Harry would have pouted at him for a while before trying to snuggle up for make-up cuddles. Niall, well he's never had to make up with Niall because Niall's too damned happy to be annoyed with. But Zayn will ignore Louis until Louis gives in and that drives him _crazy_.

It drives him so crazy and he misses Zayn's company too much that he knows he's going to break, tonight. He knows he'll give in and they'll be fine, like usual. But in the meantime, Louis is going to do his utmost to piss Zayn off onstage.

It's a fucking ritual.

Zayn spends the next hour grinning as Louis pokes, pinches, tickles and smacks Zayn around, looking smug and happy.

And when they eventually fall into the tour bus and Louis slips his head onto Zayn's shoulder and murmurs a quiet hi, Zayn wraps his arm around Louis' shoulders and whispers a hi back and just like that, they're back to normal.

"You missed my game," Louis murmurs, a few days later. Zayn's half asleep but the way his hand tightens around Louis' waist tells him that he's heard.

"Sorry babe," Zayn whispers into Louis' hair before he kisses him.

"Wanker," Louis mutters and that's all it takes, really. It's all it ever takes with them.

Except Zayn keeps fucking disappearing. It's nothing new, and even Louis being annoyed over it is nothing new because Zayn should be coming to _him_ when he's overwhelmed or tired or everything just gets too much and he _doesn't,_ even now, but it's happening far more often on this tour and Louis is determined to break Zayn's stupid habit once and for all.

Louis spends a few days trying to work out how to find out what Zayn's up to. He thinks about stalking Zayn, but he'd be rubbish at it so he dismisses it almost immediately, Zayn would see him from a mile off. He wonders if he could just steal Zayn's phone, but Zayn's more protective of it than Harry is of his phone collection, so that's probably out too. He's halfway through trying to convince Liam about a masterplan involving showers, a phone call, Harry's bandana, a fake cry and borrowing one of Lou's hair clips when Liam stops him, mid flow.

"Why don't you just ask him if you're so bothered?" Liam asks completely seriously, frowning as he stares at Louis.

Louis' about to smack Liam around the head and explain why he can't just _ask_ Zayn when he pauses and frowns.

Huh.

He pinches Liam's side instead and climbs to his feet, ignoring Liam's smug grin as he heads towards the bunks where Zayn's still fast asleep. Louis' first instinct is to jump on him and yell, and he's inches away from Zayn's face when Zayn stirs. Louis freezes on instinct and watches as Zayn's eyelashes flutter against his cheek.

"Far too pretty," Louis mutters under his breath as he reaches across to poke Zayn in the side. Hard.

Zayn's got his hand around Louis' to restrain him before his eyes even open and Louis grins as Zayn tugs him down into the bunk. "Bored?"

"Nope," Louis says cheerfully as he slides his foot between Zayn's and his hand rests on Zayn's side comfortably. "Just thought I'd catch you before you disappear for the afternoon."

He certainly doesn't imagine the slight flush that creeps across Zayn's cheekbones, making him look even more attractive and Louis kind of wants to smack him a little. He lets his statement hang in the air between them for a few minutes, but Zayn remains stubbornly silent.

Louis sighs as he gives in, like he _always_ does with Zayn because the one person in the entire world more obstinate than himself is Zayn bloody Malik. Louis would hate him for it if he didn't find it so fucking marvellous. "So come on then, tell me what you've been up to."

Zayn shrugs but he's not looking at Louis so he gives him a little pinch. "You'll laugh."

Louis' face drops in outrage, morphing into a pout. "Only if you're doing something ridiculous," Louis allows, grinning when Zayn just glares at him. "Oh come on. I promise not to laugh."

Zayn's arched eyebrow belies his thoughts about that particularly promise but his hand curls around Louis' neck and he stares at Louis intently before he nods once and Louis lets out a breath he didn't know he was holding on to.

"Been doing some like, side project stuff," Zayn mumbles and Louis' eyes narrow as his heart starts to race and he fights the inexplicable urge to smack Zayn again.

"If you're doing a fucking solo album," Louis starts, his hackles rising as he starts to panic about Zayn leaving the band and abandoning him.

"No, course not," Zayn says with a frown, his grip on Louis' neck tightening slightly until Louis relaxes against him, looking a little more calm. "It's like, something Caroline mentioned about a year ago and she introduced me to some people and it was just kind of a little dream thing that turned into a real thing, you know?"

Louis just feels really confused as he tries to follow Zayn's meaning. "No I don't know, I don't have a clue what the fuck you're talking about, Zayn."

"Fashion," Zayn murmurs so quietly that Louis has to strain to hear him and even then he's not sure he's heard right.

"Fashion?" he repeats, eyes wide as he stares at Zayn, who looks increasingly uncomfortable. "Like, a clothing line or something?"

Zayn nods slowly and Louis exhales a loud breath. "Fuck. So what, you've designed clothes and stuff?"

"It was just like, someone asked me what clothes I liked and what I'd like to wear if I could wear anything," Zayn starts and it's like he's been holding it on too long because Louis' not sure he can stop himself. "So I told them and they sketched some ideas, but they weren't quite right so I sketched what I meant and like, I forgot all about it for a few weeks. Then Caroline told me that someone wanted to discuss fabrics and shit and since then I've just been kind of like, doing that, really."

"Shit," is all Louis can think to say as he rolls onto his back to stare up at the bunk ceiling.

"They're sending some samples next week," Zayn says quietly, and Louis can hear, he can fucking _hear_ the nervousness in his voice. He hasn't heard that tone in, well, forever. Three years, he reckons as he tugs Zayn in for a cuddle, Zayn's head resting on Louis' shoulder as Louis strokes his back carefully. "What if they're shit, Lou?"

"They'll be great," Louis says, perhaps a little too fiercely but he doesn't care. Anything to get rid that horrible quiver to Zayn's lovely voice. "I know they will, okay?"

"Okay," Zayn says quietly, turning his head into Louis' shoulder and burying himself. Louis lets him, smiling as Zayn's hand curls around his side and he slides half over Louis for a closer cuddle.

Louis tries not to shiver as Zayn breathes a soft "thanks" across his neck, his fingers digging in slightly as he closes his eyes to figure out what Zayn Malik, Fashion Designer is going to mean for the band.

Mostly he just keeps imagining Zayn strolling down the catwalk, looking more gorgeous than any of his models while Louis catcalls from the audience. The image keeps him amused until he drops off to sleep.

*

Louis hates band secrets. He's never understood the need for any of the boys to keep secrets from each other, and it's not only because he hates not knowing something.

But he doesn't tell the other boys about Zayn's secret. He holds onto it, studiously ignoring Zayn's confused looks now and again when it becomes clear that Louis isn't going to shout about Zayn's fashion line.

It's not like he doesn't think the boys would be fully supportive, or that they'd laugh at Zayn or anything. He just likes it being something for the two of them. He likes it when he curls up around Zayn and asks Zayn to show him a few sketches of his clothes or when he's trying on outfits and he asks Zayn's advice - he really likes the way Zayn's eyes soften when he asks and he reaches out to stroke Louis' leg or his arm or whatever body part is nearest.

When he walks into the bus and sees Zayn lying on the sofa, completely alone because Liam's at the gym with Harry and Niall's off with Josh, he grins before he launches himself at Zayn, only slightly annoyed when Zayn catches him easily and doesn't even seem to be annoyed when he ends up sprawled over Zayn.

"Whatcha doin?" Louis asks, hands already burrowing under Zayn's body as he curls his fingers into Zayn's shirt.

"Waiting for you to come and annoy me," Zayn answers easily, smirking as Louis attempts to look outraged but he's pretty sure it just comes across as horribly pleased.

"Well it's your lucky day because the rest of the boys are out until soundcheck," Louis says, sounding far more pleased about having Zayn to himself than he should. He lets his chin rest on Zayn's chest, digging it in for a second before he lets up because Zayn's not above throwing him off and Louis doesn't feel like moving right now.

"My samples are coming tomorrow," Zayn says and Louis looks up to see him looking stupidly, appallingly excited. His eyes are all wide and his eyelashes look thicker as he blinks quickly and Louis is torn between stroking his cheek comfortingly or poking his side hard. He manages to extract a hand from underneath Zayn and he brushes the back of his knuckles across Zayn's cheek, letting his hand rest there as Zayn leans into his touch.

"Yeah?" Louis says a little gruffly. "Can I try them on then?"

"You wanna ... yeah, yeah course you can," Zayn says, looking a little taken aback but Louis just ignores him. "It's just a pair of jeans, a pair of trousers, a few tops and a jacket thing that I've kind of wanted forever so I thought why not while I've got the chance, you know?"

Louis has different ways of treating each of his bandmates. Liam needs to be touched, as much as possible and in as many different ways as possible. Harry needs attention and he likes to be pushed. Niall needs smiles and laughter and whispers and hugs. And Zayn? Well, Zayn needs quiet moments and silent assurance. But Louis' starting to wonder if maybe Zayn needs more than that and Louis just hasn't been paying enough attention.

He shifts slightly as he can cross his arms over Zayn's chest and rest his head on them, staring down at Zayn with a slight frown. "Zayn, you twat. Stop being modest, yeah? Your fashion line is going to be fucking amazing and I'm going to hate it on principle only because it'll be so good that I'll constantly worry about you leaving the band to become a famous fashion designer, okay?"

Zayn laughs, soft and low and Louis grins down at him, feeling the odd pressure in his chest loosen a little. "Thanks Lou. I'm not leaving the band though, yeah?"

"Like I'd let you," Louis mutters, letting himself be dragged into a cuddle, feeling the steady beat of Zayn's heart against his chest. He reaches up slowly and tangles his fingers in Zayn's hair, ignoring Zayn's half-hearted protest. "Tell me about these jeans then."

*

Louis wakes up to find Zayn shoving him. Disorientated, Louis blinks up at Zayn's grinning face and has an inexplicable urge to kiss him.

"What?" he mumbles, closing his eyes again and snuggling under the covers because it's bloody freezing. "Wait, what time isit?"

"Pretty early," Zayn admits, and his voice is husky and far, far too sexy for this time of the morning.

"Go wake up Liam," Louis grumbles, trying to turn around but Zayn's hand on his shoulder prevents him. "Seriously, fuck off Malik."

"My stuff arrived."

It's quietly spoken, but Louis hears him and he spins around, sitting up and banging his head in the process. "Fuck," he whispers as he rubs his head carefully, his other hand reaching out to wrap around Zayn's arm. "Really? It's really here?"

"Well like, it's not on the bus but Caroline's gonna take me to a building they've rented out for the day so I can look at the samples and stuff," Zayn explains quietly, his hand reaching up to rub Louis' head absently. "Just thought you might like to come, maybe."

"Yeah," Louis says quickly, throwing the covers off him and sitting up, wincing as his head throbs a little. "Yeah, of course mate. Just let me shower and throw on some clothes, yeah?"

"Yeah," Zayn says on a sigh as he smiles, like he's relieved. Louis pinches his arm gently before he stands up and disappears into the bathroom where he can finally smile as wide as he likes because really, Zayn is such a _doofus_ sometimes.

Louis spends the entire car journey talking loudly and trying to bite Zayn until Caroline tells them to knock it off. Louis sits back, pleased as he sneaks his hand into Zayn's. Zayn squeezes it tightly and Louis' not sure if it's a thank you for the distraction or a thank you for coming with me or an I'm terrified and what if it all goes wrong squeeze, but he squeezes back all the same and Zayn relaxes next to him so he figures it works regardless.

When they walk into the room, there's fabric everywhere and hanging rails with what Louis assumes are Zayn's designs and there are like, eight people all dressed in vibrant colours that hurt his eyes a little. Louis gives Zayn a little shove towards the guy holding his hand out and Louis goes in search of coffee. He returns with two cups, pushing on into Zayn's slightly trembling hands and Louis slips his arm around Zayn's waist, letting his head drop onto Zayn's shoulder as he tries to follow the conversation about zips, or whatever. The coffee and the touch seem to work as Zayn eventually stops shaking and soon enough, Zayn's picking up fabrics and asking questions and Louis wanders off to find a comfortable spot to take a nap. He crashes on a sofa in the corner, watching Zayn looking intense and serious for a moment with his glasses on and his long, elegant fingers stroking a dark fabric and Louis feels his heart swell a little before he closes his eyes and starts to doze.

He's been watching Zayn for the past half hour since he properly woke up, watching him through half-lidded eyes as the samples get modelled for Zayn and aside from Louis being even more impressed than he thought he'd be, Louis mostly just watches Zayn as he explains what he wants and doesn't want, and Louis' so fucking proud of him that he feels like he might burst.

He watches Zayn gather up some clothes and put them in a suit carrier, passing them to Caroline before he turns and heads for Louis.

Louis sits up, yawning loudly.

Zayn's grinning like a fool and Louis thinks he's never looked more beautiful.

"Your face is stupid," Louis says loudly but Zayn just pulls him up into a hug anyway, his hands digging into Louis' hips as Louis ruffles his hair and curls into him.

"I think it's actually happening, Lou," Zayn says, his words muffled into Louis' shoulder.

"Of course it's happening," Louis whispers, because this is only for Zayn and not those pretentious looking fashion twats. "It looks amazing, Zayn. I told you, yeah?"

"Yeah, you told me," Zayn says and Louis can _hear_ the smile in his voice.

"And I'm always right, yeah?" Louis pushes, because he wants to hear that smile some more.

"Not always," Zayn says, pulling back so Louis can _see_ the smile. "But yeah, you're usually right. Let's go back to the bus, yeah?"

Louis nods, shoving his hands into his jogger pockets as he follows Zayn, offering bright smiles to the pretentious-looking twats before he leaves the room.

Zayn's practically buzzing in the car back so Louis doesn't have to pull any of his usual tricks to distract him or cheer him up.

When they climb into the bus, it's empty as expected and Zayn shoves the clothes into Louis' hands. Louis stares down in confusion, ready to tell Zayn to hang up his own damn clothes, he's not Zayn's servant thank you very much even if he is going to be a famous fashion designer, when Zayn's hand covers his.

"You wanted to try them on," Zayn says quietly.

Louis' hand jerks underneath Zayn's. "You got them for me?"

"Course I did," Zayn says with a slight huff.

"Sick," Louis manages to say with a too bright smile, seeing Zayn's quick grin before he starts stripping. "Pass me those jeans, yeah?"

Zayn hands them over and Louis tries not to notice how avidly Zayn's watching him struggle into them, because he knows it's just a fashion designer thing. "Fuck me they're tight," Louis mutters as he finally zips them up. "First tip, let a man fucking breathe, yean?"

"They're meant to be skin-tight, you twat," Zayn says easily, handing over a t-shirt as Louis strips his off and pulls it over his head. "Hey, be careful with that."

"But these are like, mine now though, yeah?" Louis says as his head pops through the neck of the shirt, looking determined. "So I can stretch them if I want to."

Zayn shakes his head but doesn't argue and Louis finally gets the shirt down. Looking down, he thinks they look great but he needs a mirror so he heads for the bunks and stares at himself in the full-length.

He must have been quiet for too long because Zayn's nudging him gently. "So what do you think then?"

"Sick," Louis whispers, because fuck, the clothes are great. He turns from side to side, considering and taking it all in. "Fit like a glove, mate."

"Told you," Zayn says, relieved as he turns Louis back towards the mirror. His hands settle on Louis' waist as he rests his chin on Louis' shoulder. "Meant to be flattering this way, yeah?"

Zayn's hands shift, caressing the material like a lover and Louis stands completely still as Zayn's hands stroke his hips, moving slowly back towards his arse and letting his fingers trail gently over the slight curve.

He knows, he _fucking knows_ that Zayn's doing this from a professional angle but fuck, his hands feel so fucking nice and firm and he's basically touching Louis up and Louis can't fucking help it if he gets a bit aroused.

When Zayn drops to his haunches and runs his hands up Louis' inseam slowly, Louis thinks he might scream. He bites his lip as Zayn's hands drift over his thighs before he stands up and grins at Louis through the mirror, hands back on his hips.

Louis doesn't want to think about how possessive that stance seems right now.

"Alright?" Louis croaks out and Zayn nods slowly.

"Yeah, really pleased actually," he answers, a little smugly for Louis' liking. "How do they feel?"

"Amazing," Louis says and he's thankful his voice sounds more normal this time. "Really, really good. Perfect, in fact."

"Good," Zayn murmurs, his hands moving back to tickle Louis' side, making Louis yell and promise retribution and the moment, if that's what it was and not some torturous hell, passes as Louis and Zayn race outside, yelling and causing absolute mayhem until Paul appears to calm them down.

*

Louis doesn't explain where his new clothes come from, no matter how much Liam begs and Harry pouts. He knows Zayn's confidence soars every time the boys notice Louis wearing Zayn's clothes, which is more often than not because he's managed to get two pairs of jeans, a pair of trousers and three tops out of him with the promise for more when more samples come through. He likes wearing Zayn's clothes, but he's starting to realise that maybe it's not necessarily the clothes, or even the way Zayn stares at him when he wears them. It's a bit complicated, but he thinks maybe it's got a little something to do with the way he feels closer to Zayn when he wears them, or how often Zayn reaches out to touch him when he's wearing Zayn's clothes. And okay, maybe it's got the _tiniest_ bit to do with how Zayn stares at him when he wears them.

Maybe he wears them to fuck with Zayn a little because Zayn's driving him _mad_ at the moment and Louis needs a little revenge. And he blames the clothes for all of it.

"Nice jeans," he'll murmur, his hand sliding around Louis' arse before it settles on his hips. _That_ drives Louis a little mad.

"Stop pulling the neck on this t-shirt," he'll say, slipping his hand underneath to rest of Louis' waist and squeezing. _That_ drives Louis a little mad.

It's driving him so mad that he's started to _imagine_ Zayn. Imagine Zayn in ways he really, really shouldn't be imagining his bandmate. He imagines what Zayn would look like after a snogging session, whether his lips would plump up prettily and his cheeks would flush, whether his eyes would be blown with arousal and his hands would tremble a little. He imagines, sometimes when he's in the shower, what Zayn would look like on his knees, hands gripping Louis' hips as his lips wrap around Louis' dick, long eyelashes fluttering against his lovely skin as he forced more and more of Louis' cock down his throat. He imagines, sometimes late at night when he's in his bunk alone and everyone else is asleep, what Zayn would look like against his sheets, Louis straddling his hips as he sinks down onto Zayn's cock, whether he'd be silent or loud, whether he could make Zayn make those lovely whimpering noises and stare up at Louis like he's Zayn's entire world.

 _That_ drives Louis totally mad.

But he doesn't stop wearing his clothes and he can't help it if sometimes he lets his own hands linger too long on Zayn, or if he cuddles up a bit closer. It's only fair after all, Louis thinks sourly. It's all Zayn's fault in the first place.

When they get a small break in their touring schedules, Louis' relieved to go home and get some fucking space from Zayn. Lately he's felt crowded and uncomfortable and like he wants to rip off his own fucking skin because everything is _Zayn_ and he can't have a crush on Zayn. He just ... he can't.

He stops by his mum's for a flying visit and sees the girls and the babies, he catches up with Stan for a drunken night out, only realising how much of a problem the Zayn Issue is becoming when he wakes up to a text from Stan telling him to just fucking kiss Zayn already and stop moaning, which he deletes immediately and spends half an hour debating whether to delete Stan from his phone altogether because he's a terrible mate, before he spends two days at home, doing fuck all and sleeping a lot.

When his doorbell goes mid-morning, Louis grumbles all the way to the door, refusing to care that he's still in his pyjamas and his hair is sticking out in all directions and he hasn't shaved in a week.

So opening the door to Zayn looking-like-a-goddamn-model Malik who probably crawled out of bed looking just as gorgeous just darkens his mood.

"You need a shower," Zayn says mildly, stepping inside and heading for Louis' kitchen. "I'll make coffee while you clean up."

"Wanker," Louis mutters to himself but fuck if he hasn't missed Zayn, more than he bloody well should because it's only been five days and they're back on tour in two days, so he heads upstairs and jumps in the shower. With hair freshly washed, he wraps a towel around his waist and shaves properly, wincing as he rubs balm into his skin before washing his hands and stepping into his bedroom. He drops the towel and pulls on a pair of boxers before he looks around and wonders if he's actually got any clean clothes left.

Zayn strolls in with two steaming mugs, passing one to Louis before his hand slips around Louis' waist, touching his bare skin and raising Louis' temperature about a hundred degrees as he tries not to tense up.

"Alright?" Zayn asks with a frown, probably because Louis' acting tense and weird.

"Dunno if I've got any clean clothes," Louis murmurs, because it's true.

Zayn shoves a bag into his hand that Louis hadn't noticed before and he peers inside to see a pair of jeans and tops that look a bit familiar. Grinning, he looks up at Zayn. "Your clothes?"

Zayn nods and takes a seat on Louis' unmade bed as Louis tugs everything out and makes a quick decision. He pulls on the jeans, glaring at a laughing Zayn when they're unnaturally tight and huffing until he's got them buttoned up. Then he tugs on a dark blue shirt and looks up again.

Zayn stands up and turns Louis towards the mirror, and Louis wonders if this is a fashion designer thing or just how Zayn likes to look at his creations. His hands linger on Louis' hips as they stare into the mirror, except Louis' staring at Zayn, who's staring at Louis' hips, for some reason.

His hands drop again, following the same path as before around Louis' arse and then down his legs and fuck, fuck fuck. Louis can't stop the image of Zayn on his knees, sucking Louis' cock from filtering through his mind and he can feel himself getting hard as Zayn's hands run up his inseam.

He fucking prays that Zayn's too busy being a fucking fashion designer to realise that he's given Louis a fucking erection.

His luck holds though as Zayn seems totally immersed in what he's doing before he stands up and his hands grip Louis' hips again. His chin rests on Louis' shoulders and he stares into the mirror. Louis can't help but shiver and press back against him a little, letting out a tiny, tiny hiss as his arse rubs back against Zayn's dick and ...

Shit. Louis isn't the only one who's fucking hard right now.

His eyes fly up to stare at Zayn, who's watching him with hooded eyes. Never one to back off, Louis presses back harder, watching as Zayn's eyes darken and feeling his fingers dig into Louis' hips until they bite and Louis whimpers helplessly.

Zayn shifts to press a kiss against Louis' flushed skin, at the dip of his collarbone as his hands start to move, shifting forward to undo the button on Louis' jeans.

Zayn moves slowly, like he's waiting for Louis to bat him away but Louis stays absolutely still, barely breathing as Zayn achingly slowly pulls the zip down on his jeans.

"Yeah?" Zayn asks roughly, his voice hoarse and low.

Zayn's fingers are dancing across the waistband of his boxers and Louis thinks he's going to die if Zayn does move his hand lower. "Yeah," he whispers urgently. "Fuck, yes, fuck, just go on then."

Zayn smiles into his neck as his hand slips lower, cupping Louis' dick through his boxers as Louis bites back a groan. His grip is firm and warm and Louis arches his back, pressing up into Zayn's hand.

Zayn's hand slips into his boxers and Louis can't stop the growl of approval that escapes his lips at the feel of Zayn's hand on his dick.

"Fuck," Louis mumbles, opening his eyes and staring at the picture they make in the mirror, Louis' flushed and looking a bit desperate, jeans open and Zayn's hand disappearing into them, Zayn looking smug and aroused, eyes blown as he watches Louis writhing back against him.

"You look so good," Zayn whispers into his ear. "Been wanting to do this since you've been wearing my clothes."

All Louis can think is that they could have been doing this weeks ago and the moan he lets out gets caught in his throat as Zayn starts to wank him slowly, his thumb brushing over his tip carefully and making him shiver.

"Have you ... fuck," Louis mutters as Zayn squeezes his dick carefully before he strokes him a little faster. "Have you got more pairs of these jeans?"

"Yeah," Zayn mutters as he bites gently at Louis' neck and Louis wants to fucking scream. "Why?"

"Because I'm gonna come all over these ones and probably ruin them," Louis says breathlessly, his hips rocking against Zayn as he pushes up into his fist before rocking back against Zayn's hard dick.

He hears Zayn's breath catch and he grins. "Yeah?" Zayn asks quietly, husky and intense, his hand moving faster on Louis' dick. "You gonna come all over my clothes babe?"

"Yess," Louis hisses, closing his eyes as Zayn's hand tightens around his and moves faster, with determination. His other hand slips around Louis' waist and pushes, pinning Louis back against his body and Louis whimpers, feeling his orgasm build until Zayn's lips brush against his jaw and he comes with a shout, his legs buckling as Zayn keeps him upright as he comes over Zayn's fist and his boxers. When he finally finds the strength to open his eyes, he can see the wet patch on his new jeans and he looks up to find Zayn staring at him, looking fucking aroused and a little desperate and this, Louis realises with a loud thud of his heart against his chest, this is when Zayn looks most gorgeous.

He pushes Zayn's hand out of his jeans and turns, shoving Zayn back against the bed until he falls back, his knees bending as he goes. Louis falls to his knees, reaching for Zayn's zip as he tugs Zayn's jeans down, his boxers going too as Zayn lifts his hips to help. Louis settles one hand on Zayn's hip as the other gently strokes Zayn's dick, Louis grinning up at Zayn before he lowers his mouth, tasting Zayn's tip first as his other hand settles on Zayn's hip to pin him down, because although Louis is suddenly desperate to taste Zayn, they've got to go on stage in three nights and he can't risk fucking up his throat.

His tongue licks at Zayn's slit and he can hear Zayn's groans as he falls back against the bed, his hands burying themselves in Louis' hair. Louis moans happily around Zayn as he plays with his hair before he sinks down further, taking as much as he can manage before he slides back, tongue lapping at Zayn as he swallows carefully, his throat constricting around Zayn as he does. He's rewarded with a tiny whimper that makes Louis' heart race. He bobs his head back down, his thumbs pushing gently into Zayn's hips and there it is again, a little louder this time but definitely the whimper. Louis hums in approval as he builds up a nice rhythm, humming each time he hears Zayn whimper until Zayn's just whimpering uncontrollably, his fingers tugging on Louis' hair as he swallows him down again and again.

"Gonna come," Zayn manages to say, his voice sounding wrecked and trembling. Louis just slides down again before he groans, pulling back just enough as Zayn starts to come, swallowing what he can as the rest dribbles out of his mouth and across his lips. Louis pulls off and swipes his hand across his mouth, glancing up to find Zayn staring at him.

"Fuck," Zayn says reverently and Louis finds himself being pulled up into Zayn's arms, draped across him as he licks his fingers clean.

"Next time, you could at least kiss me first like a proper gentleman," Louis teases gently, even as Zayn's tipping Louis' head back and pressing his lips against Louis' and really, Zayn knows him so fucking well.

Zayn's kisses are slow and thoroughly, Louis realises, which contrasts terribly with his own fast, intense kisses but since they're both exhausted and they've just crossed a big fucking line in their relationship, Louis quite likes slow and thorough. Zayn's hands are making wide circles against his back, tickling him and pressing Louis down into his body and Louis likes that a lot as well. When he's breathless, he lifts his head and grins down at Zayn.

"Hi," he says inanely. Zayn just laughs and kicks off his jeans and boxers, his t-shirt going over his head until he's naked. He tugs Louis' shirt off and they spend five minutes laughing over not being able to get Zayn's jeans off him before they're finally off too.

"Does this mean I can get more samples then, if I'm sleeping with the designer?" Louis mumbles.

Zayn cuddles him closer and nudges his leg between Louis'. "Dunno. Depends how often you're gonna do it, I guess."

Louis grins as he stares up at the ceiling because fuck, even this is so fucking normal and Zayn's still fucking _Zayn_ , not letting Louis get away with anything and not playing his dumb games. Except this isn't a game. "Well, your clothes are pretty fucking amazing, so I guess I could do it fairly regularly."

"You can have the clothes without this Lou," Zayn says quietly and Louis springs up, horrified as he stares down at Zayn.

"Shut up, you wanker," Louis says fiercely as his mouth tightens. "I was kidding. I don't want your stupid clothes, not if you think this has got anything to do with them."

Zayn starts smiling and Louis' temper eases back a notch. "Fancied you as soon as I saw you in them, though."

"Yeah well, you've had me hard for weeks with your stupid touching and staring," Louis grumbles as he settles back against Zayn's shoulder.

"So I guess this is a thing then," Zayn says before Louis turns his head and kisses him hard.

"Fucking better be, you gorgeous arse," Louis grouses, aiming a gentle kick at Zayn's shin that he moves away from just in time.

Zayn grins as his hand trails over Louis' back. "Shut up, Lou."

"Make me."

*

Two months later, Louis steps out of the Doncaster Rovers subs bench and waves at the crowd before he steps onto the pitch. He turns slightly to his left, his eyes searching until they rest on a pair of hazel eyes, staring down at him with a stupid amount of fondness and pride. Louis grins up at his horribly, terribly gorgeous boyfriend before he brings his focus back to the game.

And when he trudges out of the changing room, ready to head back home, Zayn's sitting in the passenger seat, hand outstretched as he pulls Louis in for a congratulatory hug and a silent promise for a more hands-on celebration when they're back home, alone.


End file.
